Undercover
by MusicLoveandMagic
Summary: '"Who the hell are you?" He retorts, his gun loaded and aimed at my chest. I can faintly hear Sherlock chuckle and answer for me. "Do you really not recognise your own sister, Lestrade?"' I'm Tiffany. I'm technically an undercover agent. So undercover, the police are after me... Rating may change.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello There. Either you clicked this because you thought it looked good/interesting or your following me! Either way, thank you. I hope you like this story seeing as OC Storys aren't (generally) as commonly read as others!**

* * *

Maybe if I just keep running I'll be alright. I can hear the sirens of police cars behind me and they're closing in. I dash down another set of alleyways. My footsteps echo through the empty walls and I dodge a cat that comes hurtling past me, it's tail like a toilet brush. I end up taking a wrong turn and swear under my breath when I realise I'm on the main road with police cars behind me. I skid to a halt when I hear the sound of loaded guns.

"Alright, put your gun down and your hands up." A man calls. I turn round slowly and stare at him. He's got greying hair and hazel eyes. About 5ft 10 and he's holding a Glock 17. I don't need to know that to know who he is though. I recognise his voice and it hurts that he doesn't recognise me. Not that he would.

"I would say I'm sorry but I'm not." I say, my voice level as I squeeze the trigger and the police car explodes.

Black smoke fills the air in seconds as the car spins in the air and crashes to the ground. I use it as a cover and almost make it round the corner in one piece. The bullet zips through my left arm and I cry out. Biting down really hard, I continue running. I run until I can't run anymore and I half collapse onto the steps outside a set of apartments. I close my eyes when I hear a car approach but instead of rough police hands, someone rests a hand gently on my shoulder. I look up into a pair of brown eyes. I recognise him instantly, after all, who doesn't?

"Are you alright?" John Watson asks and I nod my head. I don't want pity, I just don't want to be caught. I hear the police sirens faintly in the distance and try to push myself to my feet. I stumble and John catches me.

"Dear god. You've been shot. I'm a doctor. I'll see if I can help." He puts an arm round me and helps me up the stairs and into the apartments. I just about manage to catch the number on the door. 221B. John sits me on the sofa and gets out this huge box, full of medical equipment.

"This will hurt a little." He admits before he begins dabbing at the bullet wound. It stings like mad and I feel the best way to express this is to swear quietly. The process seems to take forever but eventually there's a bandage round my arm and a sling holding it up.

"There you are." He smiles and I can't help but smile back. My smile slides off my face when someone walks in.

"John. Can I borrow your-" Sherlock Holmes trails off, his eyes darting from me to John to the medical kit on the table.

"Oh god." I breath when blue flashing lights outside the window appear.

"Please. You can't let them take me. They don't understand." I almost beg, staring at both men with pleading eyes.

"Your-" John pauses. "-a criminal?" He glances at Sherlock and back to me.

"No! Not intentionally. Please. Mr Holmes? Doctor Watson? I don't want to face him!"

Sherlock takes me in, I know he's deducing, I know what he does, and thinks. I let out a yelp when a loud bang on the door echoes through the flat.

"Sherlock? Sherlock!"

Sherlock looks back at me and makes rapid hand gestures. Sign language.

'Is he your brother? Yes or no?'

'Yes.' I sign back. Those classes really did pay off.

'Why are you hiding?'

'That is my job. He is the cop, I am the robber. Well, cop disguised as a robber. Please. Help me!' I sign frantically as the shouting gets louder.

"Sherlock Holmes! Don't make me knock this bloody door down."

"Go. My rooms back there. John, move the kitchen table to block it. Pretend I blew up something in there and I'll deal with it later." Sherlock orders and I nod before sprinting through the house and into Sherlock's room. Before I close the door, John puts his foot in the way.

"I never got your name. What is it?" He says.

"Tiffany." I reply. "Tiffany Lestrade."

* * *

"You sure you haven't seen her?" Lestrade.

"I haven't left this apartment since lunch time when I went to get the milk. Sherlock's been in all day." John. He's lying. He found me after all, didn't he?

"Then why's he wearing his coat?" Ugh. Just leave already. Sherlock's room stinks.

"Heating's off. He blew up something in his room and it did something to the boiler. I was going to call British Gas but you arrived." Sassy John.

"Why's there a medical kit in the table?"

"I'm a doctor Lestrade."

I can tell this is going to last along time so I look around Sherlock's room. It's quite nice if not quite messy. It's mostly clothes and paper work. I go to pick up one sheet but my phone buzzes. I pull it out my pocket and open the new message.

'Get away from my stuff. You brother's nearly gone. - SH'

I raise my eyebrows and type out a reply.

'Living your life on the edge, aren't you Mr Holmes? Texting me while my brother is right in front of you! You should know better. - T'

'You, of all people, should know your brother doesn't care that I text constantly. I text many people so this doesn't faze him. - SH'

'Yes. Those people are called John, Mycroft, John, John and John. - T' I smile slightly at my text and try to stop the giggles when I receive no reply and I guess he's sulking. I hear slamming doors and I leap up and stand by the bedroom door. John moves the table and I run out Sherlock's room and to the door.

"Thanks Sherlock. I'll be out your way now." I smile politely but the gun barrel pressed to my neck causes it to fade.

"You bastard. I've don't nothing!" I yell at him as Lestrade cuffs my hands. Sherlock remains emotionless and John looks like he wants to help but doesn't want to get involved.

"Let me go! I've done nothing!" I kick backwards at Lestrade who (unfortunately) dodges.

"Stop struggling would you?!" He says like he's taking me to a theme park and there's nothing bad about to happen.

"I'll stop struggling when I stop breathing!" I snap, kicking backwards again and my foot hits him just above his knee. His grip looses and I yank myself away. Admittedly, I should have thought this through as I'm still cuffed.

"You still sensitive there?" I laugh and he frowns.

"How did you know?"

"Experience." I shrug, fiddling in my back pocket. "Experience also teaches you to do this."

I pull my spare gun out my back pocket and aim round my body at him.

"Recognise that?" I ask, knowing full well it was him who taught me that when we were seven.

"Who the hell are you?" He retorts, his gun loaded and aimed at my chest. I can faintly hear Sherlock chuckle and answer for me.

"Do you really not recognise your own sister, Lestrade?"

* * *

**So... What did you think?**

**If you like it, please follow, favourite and ****review!**

**If you don't, tell me why not and I'll use it as feed back!**

**I will try and update soon!**

**Libs ~Starkid4Eva4~**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you so much! I didn't think that many people would want to read this! Thank you!**

* * *

"Ow! I have feelings you know!" I yelp as I'm shoved into Lestrade's office and cuffed to the chair.

"Good. Now be quiet." He replies and types something into his computer.

"Name?" He says, his voice monotone.

"Why?" I retort and he glares at me.

"Tiffany Amber Lestrade."

The lady standing in the corner with big bushy hair raises her eyebrows. Greg doesn't bat an eyelid.

"Do you have any criminal aliases?"

"Annie Rouge."

"Ah yes." He says, smiling slightly. "Your on our data base. Although-" he scratches his head.

"Donovan. Look at this." Greg gestures for the lady to look at the screen and she raises her eyebrows further. She looks at me suspiciously.

"You have no records. Not birth certificate, no passport, no drivers licence. Nothing."

"You don't get far in this profession if your real identity can be tracked down." I shrug and she eyes me even more suspiciously than before.

"What is your profession?" She asks.

"It's hard to explain. Normally I go with Undercover Agent." I smile at her. "I'm so good at it that this explosion won't topple the building."

As I speak, a huge bang sounds and the building shakes. Smoke rises past the window and Lestrade looks out it and down to the ground.

"Can I leave yet? I think there's someone trying to blow up London Bridge today and I need to move the TNT a centimetre left."

Lestrade and Donovan look at me and then each other before Donovan dashes out the room, presumably to call someone.

"Who the hell are you?" Greg shakes his head slowly, as if I'm lying to him. "And why are you using my surname?"

"Because I'm your sister." I reply with all the sincerity I can manage.

"No your not! Tiffany died! I heard her burn! She burnt alive!" He practically explodes at me, his hands shaking.

_Flames. Licking at the bottom of the door, smoke coming through the gap. Screaming out the window._

"Greg please."

_"Greg! Mummy! Help me! Please! Greg! Mum!" Screaming. Smoke filling the room. Choking. The door creaks and explodes sending shards of burning wood everywhere. Screaming. Fire creeping along the carpet. Screaming._

_"Tiffany!"_

_"Greg!"_

_"Tiffany!"_

The tears rolling down his cheeks land on the desk and leave little marks on his paperwork.

"She died. I heard her. She died." He sobs and I fight against my handcuffs until my hands are free. I roll up my sleeves cautiously and show him the marks on my bare arms. The burns.

"Greg. You have to believe me. I am your sister."

He looks at red blotchy scars and gently trails his finger around them. Greg looks up at me, his eyes still swimming in tears.

"If you are my sister, why didn't you come back? Why didn't you come back to me?" He asks, his voice breaking into more sobs. I can't stand it anymore. I move round his desk so I can wrap him in a hug.

"I wanted to. I really wanted to but it was easier to keep you safer like that. I'm so sorry Greg. Please believe me."

* * *

**I am aware this is quite short but I don't have much time to write at the moment and something is better than nothing, right?**

**All reviews were nice and I shall ****consider**** some of the things suggested.**

**Please follow, favourite and review! It makes me a happy girl!**

**Libs ~Starkid4Eva4~**


End file.
